After completing a lot of paperwork, Sigmund Basthed left the castle he called home, intending to take a walk around the gardens.
To his surprise, someone was waiting for him. Someone he wasn’t sure he liked much. The feeling was probably mutual.
“Sir Ivonn.”
“Mayor Basthed.”
They stared at each other. “Did you need something?
“Actually, yes. I wanted to speak with you, if possible.”
Sigmund didn’t want to. His last conversation with the man brought a lot of memories, and most of them were tainted by tragedy. “Alright. If you don’t mind to walk with me.”
The man nodded and followed after Sigmund. “I was brought very recently into the fact that I may have offended you.”
“That was days ago,” he commented drily.
“Still... If the rumors are right, your whole family dedicated to studying magic, isn’t that true, Mayor Basthed?”
“They were.” Magic was something that piqued the interest of thousands of human scholars. After all, thanks to their magic, elven-kin could greatly manipulate the four elements and the Goblin race was incredibly durable.
Not even taking into account, the various creatures that could control different kinds of magic to a certain extent.
Humankind was quite lacking in comparison, unable to connect to nature and the elements; but they still had the potential to use magic their own particular way.
Expecting to kill the conversation, Sigmund added, “like anyone else with a talent for magic, my parents and siblings were members of the Ivory Tower… On Oris.” Sigmund frowned in remembrance. It had been 25 years since then. “I’m only here with you, right now, because one year before the attack on Oris, I was deemed… talentless and sent away to live with my distant relatives.”
The man muttered, “like your youngest nephew.”
“That’s different!” he snapped. Realizing his bad reaction, he cleared his throat. “Sorry. But you shouldn’t make such comments. My nephew Morgan is a noble and capable young man... Funnily enough, joining the military seems to be one of his dreams. Maybe you’ll get to work together one day.”
“Hmm, I see.” They continued walking in silence until Ivonn stopped, his gaze locked on the white building at the distance. “Is that building the rumored White Tower I heard so much?” Sigmund nodded with hesitance. “I assume the name isn’t a coincidence?”
“No, it’s not.” He didn’t want to speak about it, but the soldier obviously wasn’t going to change the topic. “After Oris was retaken I was offered to lead the Ivory Tower, but there was no point to do that if I would be the only mage in there.”
Ivonn seemed surprised. ”There were seriously no other mages around?”
“All the families with a legacy on magic were lost. If there were any wandering mages out there, they never tried to approach. They probably thought Oris was cursed by God as many people believed at the time” He couldn’t but make a face at that, which Ivonn noticed.
“You don’t believe in god, Mayor Basthed?”
Sigmund sighed. “I consider myself agnostic. I can’t prove there is or there’s not a god, or that they are exactly the way the scriptures describe them, but I do believe there’s something... Sorry if I offend you with that.”
“It’s alright. That’s not important.” But his expression was somber than before. ”As long as one remains in the path of righteousness, everything can be forgiven… But you didn’t elaborate about this tower of yours?”
“The Light Tower is just what it looks, an homage to the real one.”
“What’s inside the Light Tower?” asked Ivonn all of the sudden, with the same intense inquisitiveness he had shown days before.
Sigmund took some seconds to answer. “Not much. Just some old family relics, and things from my days as a mage.”
“Can I… take a look?”
This time the answer was immediate. “Sorry, but no. It’s private.”
Ivonn’s eyes narrowed. “I understand, Mayor Basthed. I would say it was a pleasure.” He lifted his arm as if to point at the sky. “But it wasn’t.”
That was the only sign Sigmund received that something bad was going on before several arrows hit him from different directions.
The man fell to his knees, his hands barely supporting him from kissing the ground.
“Enough! I’ll take care now,” Ivonn said out loud to the soldiers hidden on the top of the surrounding trees, readying their bows to finish off Sigmund. Ivonn scoffed at the mage’s pitiful form. “Now repent in hell.” He drew out his sword and lifted it over the man’s head. The moment his eyes met Sigmund’s, a red cloud blasted him away and some sort of projectiles shot past him.
However, the sounds of grunts and bodies collapsing to the ground, told him the other soldiers didn’t have the same luck as him.
He rushed back on his feet, prepared to block a second attack that didn’t occur. He slashed at the red cloud to dissipate it, and just as he had feared, Sigmund had disappeared.
The only sign left were the drops of blood that marked his escape route, and the ten soldiers that weren’t going to stand back ever again, looking as if they were pierced by something like a spear.
Greeting his teeth in anger, Ivonn drew a flare from his belt and shot it to the sky.
He ran, following the blood trace the mage had left. Burned in his mind was that last gaze to Sigmund’s eyes, and how they shone with a cold grey light.
Ivonn failed to notice the shocked and horrified boy who saw everything, hidden behind a wall.
* * *
The sky was getting dark, as the sun slowly settled in, its normalcy was only interrupted by the flare that cut through it.
“Uh, what’s that?” Morgan tried to slow down his horse, but Emmer called him to speed up his horse’s pace.
When they finally arrived at the watchtower, he couldn't but notice they were the only ones around.
Stolen story; please report.
Usually, there were at least a couple of Ivonn’s men guarding the perimeter. Not today, though. It was empty. For the first time in a very long time, Morgan found the place ominous.
"Everyone’s busy, huh?" he commented to distract himself, as he got down from his horse.
“Yeah.” Emmer nodded, his expression blank. "Let's go up."
Having no reason to refuse, he followed Emmer to the top.
It was chilly up there. So Morgan hugged himself, trying to get some warmth.
"We should be fine here," murmured Emmer. “Everything will be okay.”
"Brother, what is happening?" He put a hand on Emmer’s shoulder, as gently as he could. “You’ve been acting weirdly all day. Please tell me, what’s the problem?"
"I...” Emmer’s shoulder slumped. ”Lied to you."
"What?"
"The reason Father and Mother didn’t come." Emmer looked distressed. "They weren't busy; Onder is simply not a safe place anymore. I accepted to travel here because I didn’t want you to get caught in the middle of this mess."
His hand dropped from Emmer’s shoulder. "What are you talking about?" Morgan believed his brother was worried. But he could see it better now, Emmer was completely scared.
"Uncle−, I mean, Lord Basthed…” Emmer sighed, looking like he seriously didn’t want to continue speaking. ”He is practicing dark magic."
For a moment Morgan’s thoughts halted.
Dark magic, he heard vague rumors about it. A type of non-elemental magic designed by humans specifically to hurt, kill, and worse. Magic that dealt with taboos people shouldn’t ever mess with.
"W-what nonsense are you talking about?" He took some steps back.
"Morgan.” Emmer tried to get close.
“You shouldn’t say such a thing about Uncle Sigmund.” It was ridiculous. “Why are you lying about something like that?”
Sigmund was an amazing person. Full of kindness for his family and people. But this was Emmer. His brother. And Emmer never lied. ‘What’s the meaning of this?’
“Morgan, listen to me!” He halted. ”Have you ever seen the inside of the Light Tower?"
"What does that have to do with anything?!" He couldn’t stop himself from yelling.
"Just like I thought." Emmer sighed, looking sad to be in the right. "I tried to ask Lord Basthed about it to convince him to let me in. But he refused. And it wasn't just me. No one has seen what he does inside that building. It has no windows, and according to First Lieutenant Ivonn, all their attempts to force their way inside failed. Both the door and walls are somehow impenetrable. Do you understand how suspicious that is?"
"He likes his privacy, what about it?" He said defensively, shocked that Emmer could admit so easily Ivonn’s attempts at trespassing.
‘But Emmer isn’t wrong, that’s suspicious’. Sigmund passed a lot of time in the Light Tower but no one really questioned what he did inside. It was something people blindly accepted, including him. Morgan doubted even Seras knew about it.
Emmer continued, "Lord Basthed was praised and gained fame for being a mage, so why would he stop using his magic? It doesn’t make sense, right?” Morgan remained silent. ”Unless he only uses his real magic when he is by himself inside that building.”
Even if it made sense, Morgan couldn’t give Emmer the reason. "He doesn't need to show off or proof anything. He is our uncle and deserves our respect. What you’re saying is just slander!"
"No. I'm sad to say it isn't." Emmer's expression turned grim. "Father received evidence about Lord Sigmund's illegal activities. But he couldn’t do anything about it openly without putting you at risk, so he sent me and Sir Ivonn’s company to bring you home. That’s the reason they are here in the first place, to help to capture Lord Basthed... Or deal with him accordingly."
Morgan paled, feeling sick. "Deal with him...?"
They wanted to kill Sigmund.
"Lord Basthed is dangerous. But as long as he doesn't resist he should be-" Not interested in hearing further, Morgan rushed towards the door but Emmer caught his arm. "Brother, please calm down!"
"No, you let me go!" He snapped, freeing his arm. "You are saying Father has evidence of this ridiculousness? Then what is it?! Show me!" To his frustration and anger, Emmer didn't answer. "You... You don't even know what it is, right? You drop those accusations despite knowing nothing."
This time Emmer had something to say, "do you truly think Father would lie about something so serious? Do you think he would let someone trick him into this?"
In other circumstances, he would say no. But seeing how easily Emmer had lied to him and kept him in the dark since his arrival, Morgan realized he couldn’t be sure of anything.
"I don't know." He couldn't waste more time with Emmer.
"You won't be safe out there, Morgan. Sir Ivonn has been worried about you being corrupted by Lord Basthed's influence. If you go out there and try to oppose him, I won't be able to do anything to protect you. That's the reason I brought you here. So you wouldn't get hurt. To keep you safe, so please stay!"
He stared at his brother in disbelief, having to reign himself not to punch his face.
"And what if aunt Seras tries to stop those soldiers...? Worse. If Bertrand or even Cailin attempt to save his father, then what...?!" Emmer's face paled. "I already took my decision." He glared at him. "You don't abandon your family."
Then he left. To his disappointment, Emmer didn't even try to follow him.
The descent to the ground floor felt like an eternity. On the way, he grabbed a bastard sword from one of the exhibits to defend himself. The weapon was heavy and hadn't been sharpened in a while but it was all he had at the moment.
As soon as he opened the doors that went outside, he saw his enemies by the other side of the bridge.
The soldier in red and two riflemen beside him, weapons ready.
"Just as I expected, you walked out of your burrow to try to rescue your master." Ivonn sneered.
"Master?"
"Don't fake ignorance. Unfortunately for you, it's just a question of time now."
Morgan's face twitched, both nervous and angry. "What do you mean with that?"
"I did what I had to do. Easy and simple. Not that trash like you and your uncle would understand."
Morgan shook his head. "You are mistaken! Uncle Sigmund didn't do anything wrong! They are all lies!"
"Ridiculous! Men can lie but not God."
Morgan frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about...?"
"I have no time to waste explaining to you something you won't understand. You chose your side, the wrong one, and now you will pay with your life." He drew his weapon, a sword covered gold. "I see you are a swordsman too. It’s fair then, as a last show of mercy to let you confront your fate like a man. Don't even dare to try to escape or my men will deal with you."
They stared at each other.
Morgan didn’t need to look around to know he had no way to escape. Especially now, that he realized Ivonn’s sanity could be in question.
‘If he won’t move, then I will’.
Morgan crushed his remaining doubts and advanced to Ivonn, making a slash with all his strength. The soldier blocked with ease, not moving one step from his position.
Morgan put on guard, expecting a counter-attack that didn't come. Then, he attempted a second strike, but again, it was ineffective.
"You are too predictable. Your inexperience shows."
Morgan started panicking, his attacks becoming wilder. However, none of them seemed even close to trespassing Ivonn's defenses.
Inevitably, he started doubting himself. He had never used a real sword outside a controlled environment. Now, he realized how different a real fight felt compared to his usual training.
His opponent was playing with him. His prowess was obvious and yet, he kept only defending.
"Let me guess, the filthy untalented men from around this sad town taught you. Such a brutish and rigid style won't get you anywhere. And you don't seem to read the situation either." Morgan stumbled as Ivonn dodged his strike. "We are not sparring."
For the first time in all their exchange, Ivonn attacked. Morgan tried to block, but as the golden sword struck, the impact knocked Morgan’s sword away.
For a moment, everything was in silence. The only noise was Morgan's heartbeat and the little splash as his weapon fell into the river. He was disarmed now, with no way to defend himself. He had no armor, either. Not even the many layers of clothes he had were going to protect him.
But he still had an option: The river. It was close, so even if the riflemen shot at him, he could maybe get away if he was fast enough.
But as Morgan took a step back, Ivonn dashed toward him, a flash of yellow slashing at his stomach.
As the attack finished, dizziness took hold of him. When he looked down, he saw red spilling out like a cascade.
"This is an execution," said Ivonn.
The strength of his legs vanished and he fell backward into the river. The clear water around him staining red.
The pain of his wound and the coldness of the water engulfed him.
‘So this is it? Dying was all I was able to do...?’ He felt no fear. Only disappointment.
His vision darkened, as he pictured all the people he had failed.
Eventually, the pain vanished. But he also couldn’t feel much at all.
Suddenly, two orbs of light shined in the darkness.
For an instant, he expected salvation. But as the lights approached, he understood that wouldn't be the case.
They were eyes. Silver ones.
"What a cruel man he truly is, to put you in the middle of this," said an unknown man's voice. "But if that's his demand, I can only comply." Morgan felt something change in the deepest of his being. "Enjoy while you can, Morgan Selbair."